Conversing with Demons
by Theine
Summary: This wasn't exactly what Flynn had in mind when he became a samurai... A series of short scenes based on the in-game recruitment conversations.
1. Samurai Life

**Author's Note:**

Before I started playing Shin Megami Tensei IV I (mistakenly) thought that the demon recruitment would be something straightforward and more-or-less simplistic… then I tried my hand at it and spent a very long time failing horribly. Despite this I kept plugging away simply because some of the things the demons said were absolutely hilarious!

So, here is a series of extremely short scenes based on some of the strange and wonderful conversations I've encountered so far during my game.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Shin Megumi Tensei or any of its characters.

* * *

So this was what samurai did, Flynn thought dispassionately as the centaur slammed its fist into his face. The impact sent him tumbling to the ground, katana ringing sharply against the uneven stone underfoot. Flynn fumbled blindly with its handle, trying not to lose his weapon as he fought off a wave of nausea. That _hurt_!

He'd been excited, hopeful even, when he'd stood in the middle of the plaza and the gauntlet had accepted him. No more plowing fields for him, he'd finally be able to live the life he and Issachar had always dreamed of. Only this dream had turned out to be a nightmare, where demons were real and he was supposed to deal with them, literally. If it wasn't for the surprisingly large number of graybeards around the samurai compound Flynn would have chucked all his hopes for a decent life expectancy right then and there.

And on the topic of graybeards… Flynn staggered to his feet and held the pointy side of the sword towards the demon, just in case it decided to make another swing at him. It wouldn't have killed Commander Hope to teach him the rudimentary basics of combat and swordplay before shoving him into Naraku, would it? Yes he and Issachar had sparred before, but that was with sticks on the old dirt road into the forest and didn't compare in the least.

The large blue demon rumbled in his throats and crossed his arms over his chest. He didn't seem phased by the sword currently being pointed in his direction. "Very good. I am pleased," he said, the voices from his two heads playing in stereo. "I will become your ally. I am called Yomi. Let us fight together from now on." Yomi reached out to Flynn's arm and clasped the gauntlet in one huge hand before Flynn could jump away. A flash of light filtered up through the centaur's fingers and then he disappeared in an explosion of sigils.

"Well done Master," said Burroughs, her voice crackling to life from speakers hidden somewhere within the gauntlet. "Only two more demons to go."

Flynn whimpered and sunk back down to the floor, letting his katana slip from his fingers as he cradled his aching head in his hands.

"Master?" Burroughs asked, almost managing to sound concerned.

"Will all the demons expect me to become their punching bags?" he asked dully, prodding the skin around his right eye gently.

"You didn't need to agree to it Master. You can always tell them no."

_And then have them try to kill me instead?_ Flynn shook his head slightly, though he wasn't sure if Burroughs could actually see him or not. It would probably be best to go along with whatever the demons wanted so they'd be happy with him, right?

A low growl and the clack of claws on stone came from somewhere nearby. Flynn pushed himself back up wearily and scanned the darkness for the source of the noises.

_Two more_, he mouthed silently as he raised his katana. _Just two more._


	2. Digging Game

Another short scene, though this one can be thought of as a sort of continuation of the first.

Hopefully there's a bit more humour in this one, it's been forever since I've tried to write anything like this and I fear I might be a bit rusty.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Megami Tensei or any of its characters.

* * *

Perhaps he should rethink his strategy.

It had seemed sound enough at first: please the demons and they'll join you. However, somewhere between the entrance to Naraku and the wall against which Flynn was currently slumped something had gone terribly, horribly wrong. There was a horde of demons crowded around him, eyes glowing malevolently as they jostled one another, their arms outstretched, palms up.

"Please, sir," they giggled like a pack of two-year-olds in a candy shop. "May we have some more?"

Flynn sighed and reached for his coin purse once more. Raising it up to his ear he gave it a small shake. Nearly empty, what few coins remained clinked sadly against one another as though saying farewell. The jostling intensified and some of the nearer demons even reached out and began to paw at his coat.

What the hell had he managed to get himself into?

"Master," Burroughs said as sternly as her pre-programmed voice would allow. "I told you already that you can turn them down."

_I know that!_ Flynn huffed silently. _And I would if I could, but…_ He scanned the horde once more, looking for an opening. He was completely enwalled. _What if they start screaming at me again? At this point all I want to do is get out of here in one piece! _

"The great pitfall of parenthood," Yomi the centaur groaned from the far side of the demonic wall.

The panel on the gauntlet suddenly began to glow. "Hold a moment," Burroughs instructed. Flynn paused, purse drawstring half open. He looked down at the panel, but couldn't read any of the strange text currently flitting across the screen. The demons paused as well, which was an impressive feat as some of them were balanced in rather precarious positions on the backs of their fellows, and followed his gaze. They waited.

"I've secured you some assistance, Master," Burroughs eventually said.

That assistance came in the form of a charging Walter.

"What were you doing?" the other samurai asked once the horde surrounding Flynn had been driven off. "Here I thought they were eating you alive or something, but you look fine!"

_Maybe he's blind?_ Flynn wondered as he looked down at his tattered and stained coat through his one good eye. The other one was, by now, swollen completely shut. Regardless, Walter had saved him so he mumbled a quiet "Thank you."

"Ah!" Walter exclaimed in surprise. "You spoke!"

_Of course I spoke. I'm not mute!_ Flynn turned his head away and Walter started to laugh.

"Well Flynn, I'll let you continue… training," he sounded a bit skeptical. "Just holler if you need a hand. Out loud, preferably." Flynn nodded and Walter sauntered off, his three companion demons lumbering after him.

"Master, are you ready to try again?" Burroughs asked once the other samurai was out of sight. Flynn was about ready for a nap, but he nodded in resignation and pushed off the wall.

He didn't intend to run into the gryphon. It ran into him. Or, more specifically, over him, leaving him sandwiched against the floor and blinking up into a pair of huge amber eyes.

"Um, hello," he managed to squeak once he'd regained both his wits and his breath.

"WE WILL PLAY A GAME!" the demon bellowed. It sounded excited and wiggled happily, nearly dislocating Flynn's ribcage in the process.

"O-okay." That was a new one. At least it wasn't asking for money.

The gryphon hopped off him and gamboled over to a small patch of soil near the wall. It was like a puppy… a three hundred pound puppy with a razor sharp beak and talons as long as Flynn's hand. Flynn rolled over and cautiously followed the overexcited demon.

"WE PLAY DIGGING GAME! CHOOSE WHERE TO DIG." The gryphon pointed to three small mounds of dirt.

They were all identical.

What would happen if he won? Or, perhaps more importantly, what would happen if he lost? Flynn fidgeted.

"WELL?" The gryphon sounded impatient.

With an impending sense of doom Flynn dug his fingers into the middle pile and shifted the dirt aside. There was nothing there.

"OH, TOO BAD. YOU LOSE."

Flynn closed his eyes and braced himself for a talon to the head. At least it would be a swift death…

"AS CONSOLATION PRIZE I JOIN YOU."

_Wait… what?!_ Flynn sputtered wordlessly as the gryphon bowled him over again and started licking his face, serpentine tail wagging happily.

His gauntlet clacked against the ground. "I'm sorry Master, but we're looking for allies, not pets. Please try again."

* * *

I've only ever gotten the digging game once; it makes me wonder what the other prizes are…


	3. Hey, Miss

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Megami Tensei or any of its characters.

* * *

The Kiccigiorgi forest was alive with the howling of demons.

It was a fearful noise; one that implied its originators were currently in hot pursuit of some poor, uncooperative morsel who would very soon be able to write a full and accurate article on the functioning of the digestive tract. In reality, the demons were merely milling around on the forest paths, every once in a while prodding at piles of leaves or suspicious clumps of dirt in the hopes of turning up a stray human or two. No one who hadn't actually set foot within the forest knew this however, and so from the relative safety of the village the senior samurai were more than happy to send in their new recruits to, as they put it: "scope out the situation" before taking to the field themselves.

That's what the chain of command is for, after all.

In the gloom beneath the trees, Flynn faced off against a spriggan, the lumbering demon swinging its knurled and glowing arms like ten-foot long clubs. _I'm finally starting to get the hang of this!_ He thought triumphantly as his sword dove in and embedded itself in the demon's chest.

The spriggan looked down at the thin piece of steel jutting from its heavy robes. "I knew I should have stayed home today," it rumbled before disintegrating, leaving behind nothing but a rather soggy pile of moss. Flynn refrained from commenting on its colour or how his Naga slithered up to it and prodded it cautiously with his tongue. There were some things he felt were best left up to the imagination. There were also some other things that were best shoved into the deepest, darkest corner of ones mind before imagination could grab hold of it and run off pell-mell towards such inhospitable locals as Nightmareville and Just-Lost-Your-Lunch.

"Not bad!" Walter said as he cut down a demon to Flynn's left. He was standing back to back with Jonathan as their swords whirled in unison. The effect was mesmerizing, or at least that's what Flynn assumed. He couldn't think of any other reason why the two of them were cutting through demons as though they were made of paper. Walter tossed him a grin. "We'll make a samurai of you yet."

"…" Flynn sent him an un-amused glare before turning to his next demon. It was very, very small. So small in fact, that at first he didn't even notice it was there. Flynn leaned closer and watched as a Pixie bobbed up and down on gossamer wings, leaving a trail of sparkles in her wake. She didn't appear dangerous; she wasn't even looking at him, but seemed to be eyeing the spriggan's remains. "Hello?" he said quietly, trying to get her attention.

The pixie whirled on him and nearly bumped into his sword. "H-hey Mister!" she squeaked, skittering away from the blade. "I know what you're about! How could you even think of doing something like _that_ to a cute girl like me?" She pointed at the remains of his last victim, now halfway down his Naga's throat. The serpent man looked up and mumbled something incomprehensible.

_Don't talk with your mouth full. _Flynn looked away, feeling queasy. He readied his sword. It might have been a small and helpless looking demon… but it was still a demon.

"Ah! I knew it! You're a misogynist, aren't you?" the pixie trilled pointing at him with a finger the width of a sewing needle.

_No I'm not!_ Flynn protested, his sword lowering slightly.

"A-hem." Someone behind him cleared her throat and Flynn was suddenly reminded that Isabeau was here too. She didn't sound amused and a glance over his shoulder showed him that she was tapping the flat of her blade against her palm, staring straight at him as if waiting for his response.

Flynn panicked and blurted out the first thing that came to the tip of his tongue. "That's Miss to you!" It took a moment for the reality of what he just said to sink in. The pixie was giving him a strange look, and off to the side someone began to cough.

"Well Miss…" the pixie said before brightening considerably. "You should really take better care of your skin!"

_Wait, did she really buy that?_ _And what's wrong with my skin?_ Flynn touched his face with his hand. It felt fine to him, a bit gritty maybe, but they _were_ in the middle of a battle.

"Hmm, where did I put that stuff," the pixie mused, hunting through its miniscule pockets. "Aha, here it is! Try using this." She held out a very small vial of... something. Flynn accepted it uncertainly, trying not to crush the tiny bottle accidentally. Was this some sort of facial cream?

"Oh, thanks." Flynn struggled to find something girly to say. He rubbed the back of his head and pitched his voice up a few octaves. "This is really great! I mean, if it can make my skin look even half as good of yours then it will really be, like, a miracle! Totally!" he looked down at the bottle again. _Especially since there isn't enough here to cover the tip of my nose…_

"Aww, you're too sweet! Anyways, take care of yourself doll, I've got to split." With that the pixie flitted off up into the canopy.

She'd barely vanished when someone grabbed Flynn by the shoulder, spinning him around. It was Walter. "Wait! Wait! Wait! You're a woman?"

Flynn mentally facepalmed.

"Of course he isn't," Isabeau said, coming to his defense. "He has a male uniform on after all."

"Like that means anything in this day and age!" Walter retorted. "There's only one way to decide this!" He shoved a finger right up to Flynn's face and it was all Flynn could do not to go cross-eyed. "Strip!"

_What?!_

"**Walter!**" Isabeau thundered in the tone of a mother who'd just returned home from market to find her best crockery in pieces. Walter froze, which only helped the flat of Isabeau's sword find him.

Flynn watched him stagger back, a bright red line now running across his nose. _He really should have ducked…_

"Ow! Isabeau that really hurt!" Walter wailed, clutching his face. "Sheesh, are we sure you aren't really a man in disguise? You sure hit like one!"

"**What was that now!?**"

In the chaos that ensued Jonathan sidled up beside Flynn and whispered. "You know… what you said before, I think that was the longest sentence I've ever heard leave your mouth."

Flynn stared at him blankly. _This is going to be a long day, isn't it?_


	4. The Power of Hunger

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Shin Megumi or any of its characters.

* * *

It wasn't long after his moment of gender confusion that Flynn had another strange encounter.

It started out normal enough. He took out a pair of dybbuk before they could start casting their shadow magic and then turned his attention on the group's final demon. It was a camazotz, and its face was scrunched up in concentration. An unearthly grumbling issued from it and its face scrunched up even more.

Well, that was strange, but Flynn wasn't one to pass up an opportunity to try and recruit a new ally, especially one who was distracted by something _other_ than the urge to make Flynn-kababs. He lowered his sword slightly and held up a hand to tell his demons to hold. "Hey, Camazotz," he called to the distracted demon. The bat's head swiveled in his direction and it squinted at him. "Would you become my ally?"

The demonic bat blinked. "WHAT? WHY YOU ASK ME THAT NOW? I SO HUNGRY I CAN'T THINK STRIGHT!" it whined. Several vials of healing water shattered and Flynn had to throw his hands over his ears. "HEY, I KNOW! YOU WANT TO BE ALLY; YOU TELL ME WHAT I SHOULD EAT. THAT KID OVER THERE LOOK PRETTY GOOD," the demon flicked its head to where a young village boy was hiding behind his parents. They recoiled as a group and Walter hurried to get them moving out of the area. Seeing that prey escaping the bat looked back to Flynn and opened its nostrils wide. Flynn could almost _feel_ the air being sucked in. "YOU SMELL PRETTY YUMMY TOO."

It wasn't exactly something Flynn wanted to hear from a demonic bat wielding a pair of well-used sickles and with incisors the length of his hand. "T-that's nice, but…"

"BUT?"

"But, the best thing you could eat right now is…" Flynn scanned the area desperately. There had to be _something_ here that the demon could eat that wouldn't result in Commander Hope beating him over the head with a bedroom slipper again. That had hurt, and as far as Flynn was concerned, hadn't been his fault in the least. If the Commander was into stuff like _that_ he should have at least locked his office door.

That particular memory didn't help with the current situation in the least and the demon seemed to be getting annoyed. So, Flynn blurted out the first thing that came to the tip of his tongue. It had worked the last time, after all.  
"Yourself."

Flynn immediately kicked himself. _Why did I say that? No demon would fall for something like that; it'll just get mad! _

"MYSELF?" the camazotz mused, tapping the underside of its muzzle with one elongated claw. Suddenly its eyes lit up. "AH, I SEE! IF I EAT MYSELF I NEVER GO HUNGRY AGAIN!"

_I don't think it works quite like that…_

"YOU PRETTY SMART FOR A HUMAN," the camazotz continued with a huge, toothy grin.

"Thanks, I think…" Flynn couldn't tell if the camazotz was being sarcastic, just that the longer it carried on the more his ears felt like they were bleeding.

The demon was studying its forearm, tongue darting out to wet its lips. Flynn watched with morbid curiosity as the demon opened its jaws wide, placed the limb between them and then bit down hard. Bone snapped and the camazotz chewed thoughtfully for a moment. "HEY, I TASTE DELICIOUS!"

The bat spiraled to the ground as it began to work on its shoulder, flesh tearing away in great, blood-splattering chunks.

The entire area fell into an astonished silence, even the quiet susurrus of the trees' leaves ceased. The only noise came from the camazotz who was happily tearing away at himself, smacking his lips after each mouthful like a gourmand digging into an all you can eat buffet.

"What's that demon doing?" Jonathan exclaimed in the loudest whisper Flynn had ever heard as he ran up with his hand at the level of his eyes. "What did you say to it?"

Flynn just shook his head, unable to look away even though he really, _really_ wanted to.

It lasted a surprisingly long time. Demons must have been made from something really tough, Flynn reflected as the camazotz finally gave a bone-jarring shudder and then, with a hiss like meat being thrown on a grill, disintegrated into a thousand small black shreds.

"I… didn't think that such a thing was possible," Jonathan mumbled as the sounds of the forest began to pick up again now that the show was over.

_Neither did I,_ Flynn replied, silent as ever. _And I don't think I want to see anything like that ever again!_

Burroughs chose that moment to speak up and Flynn jumped. It had been a while since she'd last said anything to him. "It may be for the best that the demon didn't join us Master."

"Too ssstupid to ssurvive," hissed his Naga in agreement, poking around at the ground in case any bits of the camazotz had been left behind. Flynn's other demons nodded in agreement.

Flynn wasn't convinced. _It had survived up until now though… Could this be the power of hunger? _ He looked down at his hands. _Would I eat myself if I was desperate and out of options?_ That would probably hurt too much.  
His eyes slid over to Jonathan, who was still standing beside him. _He'd probably taste better, and as a Luxuror he'd be tender…  
_Walter chose that moment to come running back from escort duty and Flynn let his gaze wander over to his fellow Casualry. _He'd probably be good too, though maybe a bit tough._

There was only one other samurai left, but when Flynn looked up at Isabeau he found that she was glaring at him, an incredulous expression on her face. Flynn felt a moment of panic. _Wait, did I say any of that aloud?!_

"You didn't need to, I could see it all written on your face."

From that point on Flynn's world suddenly became _much_ more complicated.


	5. Fundraising

This one isn't technically based on a recruitment conversation, per say... :)

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Megami Tensei or any of its characters.

* * *

It was a great day to be a demon.

In the gloom of Naraku, shadows were lurking, moss was creeping and hordes of mindless zombies lurching. Fallen Melchom strode along the uneven corridor, patting the bulging purse around his neck contentedly. Business was great in the Third Stratum, and the meddlesome samurai had become rare of late, off on their own business above ground. It almost made Melchom want to do one of those little hops where you click your heels together while giggling 'tee-hee, how wonderful'! But that would be unprofessional, not to mention a bit embarrassing. He had a reputation to uphold after all.

"Oho, what's this?" he smirked as he turned the corner and came face to face with a young samurai. Melchom scanned the youth once over, making a mental note of his long black hair and clear, oh-so-green eyes. He shoved his hands in his pockets, his tail curling lazily around his ankles. The samurai was alone but for a Naga sitting low to the ground at his side, tasting the air nervously with its tongue. They didn't look so tough.  
"You lost boy?" Melchom asked, mentally calculating how much he'd be able to sell such a fine looking human specimen for on the subterranean market. "Don't worry, you can trust your uncle Melchom to take _good_ care of you."  
The black-haired youth gave him a strange look, but didn't reach for his sword. Melchom's smirk grew wider, revealing a row of uneven yellowing held out his hand. "Well, what do you say? Why don't you come along with me like a good boy?"

"Shibaboo," the youth said.

"…Pardon?"

The Naga coiled and rose up. Its thin lips split into a wicked grin as it threw its right arm out. The air shivered, and, all of a sudden, Melchom found that he could no longer move. The Naga turned to the youth. "Gotsss him Bossss," he hissed. The samurai nodded.

"What do you think you're…?" Melchom said, laboriously forcing his lips to expel the sounds.

"Hello there," the samurai said, his voice sickeningly pleasant, and a salesman's smile on his face. He slowly began to close the distance between them. "I'm currently accepting donations for a personal fund, and was wondering if you'd like to contribute."

Melchom growled and tried to back away, but the spell of binding held him in place. "You would ask for funds after rendering me helpless?"

"It couldn't be helped."

"Tch! I would never invest in a scheme headed by someone like you."

The smile dropped off the samurai's face, and Melchom's stomach plummeted along with it. "That's really _too_ bad," the samurai said, his brilliant eyes narrowing. He reached forward and slipped a hand into the pocket of Melchom's coat. The demon could feel him digging around, and when the hand withdrew, Melchom caught the glint of Macca between the samurai's fingers.

"Hey! What are you doing you scoundrel?" he growled. "Get your hands out of there!"

"Well it can't be helped," the samurai replied, dipping his hand into a different pocket. "After all, in the past I've singlehandedly guaranteed the financial stability of Naraku's economic infrastructure through donations."

"I seriously doubt that," Melchom spat, barely keeping up with that last sentence, as the hand withdrew again, more Macca clenched tightly in its fist.

"I also need to keep paying off Chiron; do you know how expensive it is to die nowadays?" the samurai asked, patting down Melchom's clothing, looking for hidden pockets.

"How is that my problem?" Melchom snapped, as quickly as a bound Fallen could snap.

The samurai finally set his eyes on the large green purse around Melchom's neck. "And Makara's always hungry," he said as he pulled open the latch.

As if on cue a huge finned dragon popped out of the samurai's gauntlet. "FEED ME!" it roared.

Melchom barely noticed the dragon; his eyes were fixed on the fingers digging into his life's savings. "Ahh! Stop that immediately!" All he got in return was an infuriatingly pleasant smile as the samurai scooped up his Macca, dropping it into a sack, helpfully held open by the Naga.

"Urg-!" Melchom watched as his last coin was plucked from his purse. "Can a human blinded by greed truly be this dangerous?"

The samurai took the sack from his demon ally and bounced it in the palm of his hand. He didn't reply aloud, but in his eyes was a patient sort of skepticism, that left Melchom feeling like he'd just made some obvious blunder. That didn't matter however, as Melchom could feel movement returning to his limbs. A fire lit in his belly and he sneered at the thief and his serpentine pet. Just a little longer now! Just a few more seconds and he'd be able to have his revenge!

The Naga tilted his head in thought, and just as Melchom was winding up to launch an attack, threw out his arm once more.

Melchom froze… literally.

When the shards of ice-encrusted demon had settled against the ground, the Naga turned to the samurai. "Ssso, how didss we do Bosss?"

Flynn sighed and tucked the sack away under his coat, trying unsuccessfully to make it lie flat. He shrugged. _Still not enough…_

The Naga seemed to understand. He slithered off deeper into the caverns, eyes peeled for more victims to fleece.

In the gloom of Naraku, the shadows kept lurking, the moss kept creeping and the hordes of mindless zombies continued their lurching.

It was a horrible day to be a demon.

* * *

I do actually have a Naga with Shibaboo (he's my fundraising bro, haha!).

I figure he got it through one of those 'randomly replaced' moves, or whatever one may call it, as the wiki doesn't mention anything about Nagas learning it naturally (or at least I don't think it does).


	6. Sickness and Health

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Megumi Tensei or any of its characters.

* * *

Flynn felt woozy.

It was an unpleasant feeling. His head was spinning, he was freezing though covered in sweat, and his stomach was churning like a maid hell-bent on making that butter that should have been done two hours ago, but that she'd completely forgotten about because Lord So-and-So had ridden by on his white stallion and tossed her a smile; and God knows she needed to tell everyone about it.

He'd felt this way ever since he woke up some time just after noon, to Walter prodding his face. Maybe it was something he'd eaten the night before, or maybe it was just the luck of the draw, but one thing was certain beyond all doubt, and that was that Flynn was close to losing what little lunch he'd had forced down his throat by Walter. Jonathan had showed up shortly after _that_ fiasco, and that had opened up a whole new can of worms that Flynn hadn't even known existed until that moment.

And, quite frankly, he wasn't having any of it.

So, against even his own advice, he'd made a daring escape right out of the barracks window when his two jailers turned their backs to whisper something about "playing doctor" while wielding leeks that they'd purloined from the kitchen.

Several roofs, downspouts, and near falls later, Flynn shimmied down to solid ground and looked around, leaning heavily against the wall. He needed somewhere to hide, and fast.

That's how he found himself descending the spiral ramp down into Naraku. Of all places he could have gone this was probably the worst, but it was nearby, and it was the last place anyone would come looking for him. Never mind that he didn't have his sword, or even proper armour on; his demons would probably be able to handle anything they came across in this area without his help anyways.

Flynn made for the locked door that led to the shortcut to Naraku's depths. As far as he knew he was the only one with a key to that particular room, which made it the perfect hiding place.

He was nearly there when a huge blue demon materialized out of the shadows right in front of him. "What do we have here?" It thundered from its dual throats. "A little lost lamb is it?"

_Oh, it's just a centaur_. Flynn groaned, though he wasn't too worried. He tapped a muddled command on the screen of his gauntlet and his own demons appeared around him in a shower of sigils. Flynn could feel them staring at him, no doubt wondering what was wrong with their Master. He could almost imagine concern hidden deep within their cold, cruel eyes, but that was probably just wishful thinking brought on by his fever. They were _demons_ after all.

"Hi," Flynn said weakly, instantly regretting opening his mouth as his stomach gave a lurch. He hadn't been addressing anyone in particular, but there were a couple of "hellos" muttered back at him as his demons took up a defensive formation and prepared themselves for a fight.

The centaur crossed his arms across his burly chest and pulled disgruntled faces. "I'm in a really foul mood today," he complained.

_You're not the only one!_ Flynn moaned and put his hand to his mouth; it had started to water, and not from hunger.

"I think you should give me something," the centaur continued on, oblivious to how Flynn's skin had turned a ghostly white and was now covered in beads of sweat. "To make me feel better."

Flynn couldn't hold it back any longer, he staggered away from his demons and heaved his guts, leaning one hand against the wall for support.

There was a beat of silence while Flynn gasped for breath, and then someone was patting his back gently. He looked up, not sure which of his demons he expected to find, but certainly not expecting to see the centaur's two heads peering down at him with a concerned furrow to their heavy brows.

"Such amazing dedication," the centaur said, and Flynn was sure he must have misheard the demon. "To continue to fulfill your duties as a samurai while so ill, it is truly inspiring!"

Flynn decided not to mention that he was really just running away.

"I know!" continued the centaur. "Why don't you take this medicine? It is a recipe that was passed down to me from my great grandmother, and her great grandmother before her." He reached behind his back and drew a flask of pale green liquid out of who-knows-where and placed it into Flynn's hand; curling Flynn's fingers around the flask with it's enormous palm, so he wouldn't drop it.

Flynn looked down at the flask, trying to focus. It looked normal enough. He straightened and moved away from the soiled ground and slowly removed the stopper. He sniffed the contents hesitantly, not entirely sure if he should be trusting something he got from a random demon. It didn't smell bad per se; it reminded him a bit of Dis-poison. The centaur was watching him, encouragement clear in his posture; and since none of Flynn's other demons raised any protests when he sent them a quick look, he took a deep breath, and chugged the flask in one gulp.

It was sour! Flynn's face screwed up and he ran his tongue along the bottom edge of his teeth a few times, trying to get rid of the taste.

"Well?" the centaur asked. "Do you feel any better?"

Flynn paused to take a mental inventory of himself. He was still a bit sweaty, and his hands were shaking, but against all odds he was no longer plagued by overwhelming nausea. His head was also clearer than before, as though the concoction had kicked his fever to the curb and told it not to come back. He looked at the centaur in wonder. _Who would have thought a demon's brew would be so effective?_

"Thank you very much," Flynn said, bowing slightly to the demon.

"It was my pleasure to help someone so devoted to their cause," he said, his heads giving twin mirrored grins. "Take care now, young samurai. And if you ever find yourself in such a bind again, be sure to seek me out." With that, the centaur turned and vanished back into the darkness from whence he'd come.

Flynn watched him go before turning back to his own demons. _Well that was nice of him, wasn't it?_

There was no longer any real reason to hide, so Flynn returned to Naraku's entrance and looked out over Aquila Plaza. In the distance he could see Walter and Jonathan running around frantically, no doubt looking for their escaped patient. His demons returned to his gauntlet, and Flynn strode out into the light.

His sudden recovery was dubbed a miracle by both Walter and Jonathan. Though, they did look a little put out that they wouldn't get to finish _playing_ with him.

Flynn never did tell them what really happened.

* * *

Poor Flynn, for some reason he always ends up surrounded by perverts! XD


End file.
